


Nooth or Dare

by missdibley



Series: The Red Nose Diaries [79]
Category: British Actor RPF, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Existing Relationship, F/M, Quickie, Red Carpet, Teasing, Wall Sex, early man, intercourse, red nose day tom - Freeform, red nose day tom hiddleston - Freeform, the red nose diaries, tom hiddleston - Freeform, unprotected intercourse, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-04 22:06:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13374018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missdibley/pseuds/missdibley
Summary: Tom is on his way to prepare for the premiere ofEarly Manwhen he has reason to stop.





	Nooth or Dare

“Are you sure I can’t give you a lift?”

Tom crouched by the front door, playing with his dog. He scratched the pup behind the ears, gave him his closed fist to nip at before rolling him gently over so he could scratch his tummy. The dog, a spaniel named Bobby, squeaked happily before becoming distracted by a much gnawed, much loved tennis ball that he spied lying under the couch.

“Button?”

Tom called up the stairs. He wasn’t late — there was a car on its way to take him to his stylist’s hotel where, after some careful grooming and dressing in an impeccably tailored suit, Tom would attend the world premiere of  _ Early Man. _ It was work, to be sure, but work that Tom enjoyed. Chatting to fans as they clamored for selfies. Standing for pictures on the red carpet, alone and with his co-stars. Even after all this time, it didn’t quite come natural to him. But he knew what to do. How to hold himself (he would never say he posed), hold the focus of the cameras, and relax. A few hours for the screening and the after party, and then he’d be done.

Carmen just needed to come downstairs.

“Sorry!” She called, her voice muffled by distance and the faint buzz of her hair dryer. “I’m almost done!”

“That’s cool,” he replied, good naturedly.

Tom checked himself again. Phone? Left pocket. Keys? Right pocket. Wallet? Jeans pocket. Spectacles? On his face. They were smudged, so he removed them and, despite the fact that there was a microfiber cloth in his pocket for this very purpose, he wiped the lenses clean with the hem of his shirt. He put the glasses back on, looked up, coughed, and froze.

“Baby, are you alright?” Carmen stood at the top of the stairs, frowning as she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Hold on, I’ll be right there.”

_ This isn’t fair, _ Tom thought, watching her walk down to him.  _ She’s wearing… why is she dressed like… _ He shifted, clenching his jaw ever so slightly when he realized he was starting to get hard. “You… you look.” He gulped. “Nice.”

And she did. Carmen almost always looked nice. She didn’t want to be trapped by the narrow expectation that, being fat (she preferred this descriptor to its rather insipid euphemistic cousin, “plus sized”), she always had to look good when going out in public. But, she reasoned, she liked to look pretty. It pleased Tom, sure, but most importantly, it pleased her to do so. And that was all that mattered.

That being said, for this sunny Sunday, three years almost to  [ the day they met ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4467890) , she just happened to be wearing the exact outfit that she wore on that auspicious occasion.

To wit: a snug dove grey cashmere jumper, with a high round neck and long sleeves. A grey and maroon kilt which she had accessorized with an oversized gold safety pin from which dangled a charm in the shape of a phoenix. Grey tights tucked into knee high grey suede boots.

Which is to say, she was wearing what may as well have been Tom’s kryptonite.

“Hey!” She threw her coat and bag over the back of the couch then knelt before Tom, wrestling the tennis ball from Bobby’s mouth. Leaning in for a kiss from the dog, she laughed then tossed the ball away for the dog to chase.

Offering her hand to Tom, who still stood before her, she smiled. “Give me a hand?”

In his head, Tom was doing some quick calculations. Maths had never been his strong suit, but in the pursuit of carnal delights he could do the job. Could the car wait, could the stylist busy herself steaming shirts or polishing shoes? Could Luke make an extra handful of explanations to the event planners and the other publicists waiting on the red carpet? The camera operators could adjust their lenses, and the bubbly reporters could fluff up their hair. What could that buy Tom? Five minutes? Ten? Fifteen?

Carmen’s cheeks were flushed, and her black hair curled softly around her shoulders. She wore simple pearl studs in her ears, and  [ a sterling silver button ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10127744/chapters/22796720) on a chain around her neck. Tom treated himself to a brush, just the back of his hand on her hip. He asked himself:  _ How late can I be so I can take this girl back upstairs, rip her clothes off, and ravage her and still make the premiere in time? _

“Huh?” Carmen smiled again. “Did you say something?”

“No,” Tom whispered. “You… you look nice.”

“Yeah?” She smiled. “Thanks.”

“You have that thing at St. Paul’s, yes?”

Carmen nodded vigorously. “Yeah. Pastor from the divinity school at the alma mater is doing a fellowship at Cambridge. He’s going to deliver a sermon, sort of an interpolation of King’s ‘Three Dimensions of a Complete Life’ that he preached at St. Paul’s in 1964.”

“Oh.” Tom said, frowning.

“What’s that frown for?” Carmen reached up and stroked his beard. “You okay?”

“Yes, I’m alright, love,” said Tom, truthfully.

“Then why do you look all mopey all of a sudden?”

“You’re on your way to what sounds like an afternoon of introspection and spiritual growth…”

Carmen shrugged. “I try to expand my horizons.”

“And here I was, wondering,” Tom continued. “How late could I afford to be so I can take you upstairs for a quick shag…”

“Tom!” Carmen laughed. “You walnut.”

“Because you’re wearing this ensemble.”

“What ensemble?” She looked down at herself. “This old thing? It’s just my old sweater and kilt.”

“And what a jumper it is.” Tom growled, pulling her in by the hips so he could run his hands up and down her sides. He leaned down to nip at her earlobe. “Greatest jumper in the world.”

“It’s warm!” Carmen exclaimed.

“And so snug,” Tom muttered in her ear. “Soft.”

Before Carmen could pull away, Tom slipped his hands under her skirt. He grinned when he felt bare thighs under his fingertips. “Naughty girl.”

“It’s laundry day,” Carmen whispered in his ear. “I had to wear thigh highs.”

Tom kissed her, biting and pulling on her bottom lip. “Brat,” he hissed.

“Baby, it’s Sunday.” Carmen said primly, but did not move away from him. “You have work.”

“And you have…”

“A nice afternoon of… oh stop that… wiggling on hard church pews… okay don’t stop that… while I think about… Tom, please… the scrape of your beard… mmm, that delicious beard… on the insides of my…  _ oh!” _

Carmen laughed as Tom pushed her against the wall, just by the front door. His hands fumbling, he yanked down her knickers. But he was so addled, so consumed by desire that he had to brace himself, hands planted on the wall above her head while he leaned and let her take care of his fly. And while she did, she stole glances at him. Eyes shining bright, her lips swollen after kissing, Carmen relished the job. She reached inside his trousers and, upon touching his cock, she smiled.

Tom panted, his sounds becoming more lustful and needy, and he crouched down. Carmen lifted a leg, hooked it around his hip, and guided him to her sex. At first contact, Tom whimpered. She was so wet, and hot, and he could be forgiven for thrusting in so quickly that she lost her breath.

Carmen, whose arms were now wrapped around Tom tightly around the neck, gasped. Eyes shut tight, she held on and tried to gain purchase even as Tom’s strokes pushed her away with the force of them. His grunts were short, she could feel his hot breaths on her temple and he was so close and then she felt his beard under her fingertips. Carmen turned and, taking his face in her hands, she kissed him. Her mouth open and lips soft, she moaned when his tongue massaged hers. Teased her, tickled just inside, and laughed when she whined.

Tom’s back was tense, all the muscles in his ass and his thighs clenched with the effort. Of keeping her legs parted, holding her close, and kissing her because even something as ordinary as a quick shag, with a car and the world waiting outside the lovely bubble of their home, required everything. All of his attention, all of his energy. Certainly all of his love.

He was dizzy, just looking at her laughing face and smiling eyes. Overwhelmed by her kisses and her touch and the wet slick heat between her legs that welcomed him, tempted him further until there was nothing. Nothing between them, and nothing in the world but the two of them.

A literal labor of love, and thusly he fell upon her after he came. They slid, together, along the wall, down to the floor. They were a sight. Tom, ass bared but otherwise still clothed. Carmen also closed, but skirt twisted around and her knickers caught around one ankle.

She kissed his cheek. “Cambridge.”

Still panting, he nuzzled her cheek. “Button.”

“You’re just a little sweaty.”

“Just a little?” He wondered.

“Okay, a lot sweaty,” admitted Carmen.

“Do I have time for a shower?”

The intercom buzzed. “Hello!” Luke Windsor’s voice, made tinny by the speaker, piped in. “Car’s here!”

“No,” Carmen said. “Maybe you can wash your face when you get to the hotel.”

Tom agreed. “Right.”

They lay there, still catching their breath. Again Luke’s voice on the intercom. “Tom?”

Tom muttered unintelligibly, pressing his face into Carmen’s dewy neck.

“I know you don’t want to go now, but you have to.”

“But it’s our anniversary,” said Tom. “And it’s so nice down here. On the floor.”

Bobby reappeared, falling upon Tom’s bare arse as though it were a new toy. Tom shouted, trying to move away from the dog’s rapturous attentions while also not crushing a now laughing Carmen under his weight. This succeeded only in Bobby redoubling his efforts, as this seemed only to be a new and exciting game to him.

“So are you gonna let me up, or are we gonna wait until Luke comes in,” Carmen said. “WITH HIS SPARE KEY to help.”

“Fine, fine fine fine.” Tom nudged the dog away with one hand, and tugged up his trousers with the other. He got up to his feet, then pulled Carmen up to hers. She shrugged, then got her panties back on.

“Have fun,” she said mildly. “Home for dinner?”

“Probably on the later side, but yeah.” Tom nodded.

“Okay if I get KFC?” Carmen grinned

“Why not?” Tom shrugged. “Isn’t that typical for a celebratory meal?”

“Pretty sure it itsn’t,” Carmen retorted. “But it’s pretty typical for us.”

“Perfect,” Tom murmured. He kissed her on the forehead. “I love you. Happy anniversary.”

“Love you, too.” As Tom moved to the door, Carmen grabbed his arm. “Wait wait wait wait wait…”

“What?” Tom watched her as she examined his outfit closely. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she said, still looking. “Just checking for any… you know… dried…”

“Oh god,” Tom groaned. He pulled her into his arms. “But was there any…”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s an anniversary wall sex miracle.”


End file.
